


An Alloy Of Their Own

by Marmoniel



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, MWPP, Marauders, Marauders' Era, No Plot/Plotless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-15 22:56:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5803552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marmoniel/pseuds/Marmoniel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sirius was strong and rough around the edges. Remus was warm and calm. They were puzzle pieces of a two-piece puzzle. Two halves of a whole.<br/>Sirius was silver, and Remus was gold.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Alloy Of Their Own

**Author's Note:**

> It's really a stream of consciousness story, written when I was dissociating.  
> But here it is regardless of it's questionable quality.

Sirius was silver. Shiny and sparkly, and pretty to look at. Easy to get, but hard to hold onto. He always seemed to stay out of reach. He was silver, because he shone in the light. He shone so bright, that people started mistaking him for a star. (’But I am a star!’, he’d simply say, with a wink and a laugh that made you feel like you were in on a personal joke between just the two of you.)  
Sirius was silver, because of the way he could adapt to any situation. Like a chameleon, blending in to survive. With his family he was polished but not yet carved into shape. With his friends, he was pure silver, in it’s original form, straight from the ground, vulnerable but precious. With his teachers, he was unpolished, misshapen silver, but everyone knew that under that dirty exterior, there was a certain beauty hiding.  
Sirius was silver. You could see it in the way he walked, (smoothly, fluidly, calculating his steps precisely) in the way he talked, (with a silver tongue that could make you do whatever he wanted) in the way he held himself, (strong, precise, deliberate) and in the way he acted around his friends. (Familiar, capable, resilient.) He was silver and he’d never been anything else. And never would be likely. Silver can melt and burn and bubble, but it’s still silver.  
Sirius was silver.

Remus was gold. Flashy, shined, shaped, and gave you a warm feeling when you were around. Easy to find, easy to keep. Remus was friendly, helping everyone, never stopping to give himself a moment’s rest. He was gold, because he was genuine. People would find themselves telling him their secrets, and small things that they didn’t think would matter to anyone. They mattered to Remus. Everything mattered to him. No matter how small, he tucked it away in his memories, and called it up whenever he needed it. When Lily was sad because of a letter from her sister — or lack thereof — Remus would remember her favourite sweet, and would sneak into the kitchens and ask the house elves for marzipan. He would present it to her with wide eyes, and a small, crooked smile, and no one could ever resist that smile from him. You just had to smile back.  
Remus was gold because he was consistent, and reliable, and you could always count on him. No matter the situation. If there was a hitch in one of the Marauder’s pranks, Remus would undoubtedly be the one to fix it. If someone fell off their broom during Quidditch practise, Remus would have a cushioning charm on the tip of his tongue, and he’d cast it before anyone else had realised that there was a fall. If Sirius was sad, Remus would know exactly how to cheer him up, whether it was with chocolate, a hug, or letting him spend some time as Padfoot. Remus was reliable, and stable, and nothing could shake him. He was strong, and consistent — a werewolf with a schedule, a timetable to follow, always saying the same excuse, missing the same periods, smiling the same way, apologising the same way. Good, old, reliable Remus.  
Remus was gold, and even when gold is dirtied, or stepped on, or broken, it is still gold, and it gets back up and continues to be gold. Always.  
Remus was gold.

It was certainly ironic that Sirius was silver. When Remus saw the truth of Sirius, and how he sparkled and shone, despite years of abuse and dirt collected on him, he was scared at first. Scared because of his past experiences with silver. It had burnt him, been used against him, been used to cause deliberate pain. It had scarred him, and broken him, until he barely had a glimmer of gold left in him. So at first, Remus avoided the silver boy.  
But then Sirius, the silver boy, who bought with him fear of pain, turned out to be gentle, and kind, and just as vulnerable as Remus. And just as broken.  
They never mentioned it out loud, but their shared experiences of being broken, and not shining as they should, brought them together. They never talked about it, but they knew that it made them extraordinarily close.  
Sirius had once promised to never burn his golden boy. He knew that Remus had been hurt with silver, but he was determined to be his own type of silver. A silver that shone so bright that it couldn’t hurt the werewolf anymore. And he was. Sirius was his own type of silver. His own brand, his own species. Mined from a separate silver mine than any other silver in the world. Remus’ own special type of silver, that couldn’t hurt him.

To Sirius, Remus was the most beautiful metal in the world. That ever had been, and ever would be. To Sirius, his golden boy was unique and entirely separate from the rest of the universe. Gold forged in a star, somewhere far off. An alien boy, bought to Earth, and of everyone that he could have chosen, he chose Sirius. He chose Sirius. Out of James, Peter, Lily, Marlene, everyone. He chose Sirius. Even though Sirius would end up hurting him. (Silver burns were nasty and never quite fully healed. Always left behind a spectacular scar.) Although, Remus insisted that Sirius’ special type of silver could never hurt him.  
This foreign boy who had lived such a different life, had come to the same place as Sirius (what were the chances!) and he’d fit in perfectly. Into a universe that he was alone in, he had belonged perfectly. It was as if a space in everyone’s lives had been kept specifically for Remus Lupin, and the golden boy filled it impeccably.

Together they were the moon and the stars, Remus and Sirius, Padfoot and Moony, silver and gold. They were spontaneous and unplanned but maybe, somehow, they were fated together. (Despite Sirius not believing in fate, Remus insisted. Remus knew of the powers of fate and the inevitable, and was strongly under the belief that the only outcome for the two of them was to be inseparable in heart, soul, and mind.

Maybe the veins they were mined from were near each other. Maybe they were brought together by chance, but kept together by destiny. Whatever it was, they didn't argue with the divine forces.

Sirius and Remus, Silver and gold. Both with experiences of bring chipped, and broken, and trod on, and lost. Both with rough exteriors. Both appearing to be common rocks, with no value. Then. Then, taken to the right place, given to the right people, they shined and sparkled. They transcended the world around them, and shone in ways unique to them, and them only.

Sirius was silver. Intimidating, metallic, chipped, but strong.

Remus was gold. Cracked, broken, but warm and reliable.

Together though, they were RemusAndSirius, and SilverAndGold. Belonging together. Unique. Strong, brave, and most of all, happy.

The two of them went through their hardships, battled through Hell, fought like the strong rocks that they were. Despite everything, they knew that they’d always be there for each other. The idea of being Silver and Gold, rather than SilverAndGold again haunted them. They’d always take the hand of the other, and hold them tight.

They were there for each other. To depend on. To treasure. To love.

Until they weren’t. Until Silver had to leave. Until Silver messed up.

But the story of Gold finally crumbling can wait until another time.

Because, Silver and Gold and always together. And nothing will take that away from them. Their love is immortalised in the sky. It’s written in the stars. It’s encased by dirt in the ground. Its kept safe the tender way they hold each other through the nightmares of being mined. Its kept safe in the shared looks when they should be focusing on other thing.

Sirius was silver, and Remus was gold. But now? Now it doesn’t matter. Now they’re something else. Something new entirely. Something that was never meant to be. (Or maybe something that should always have been.) But regardless, they’re new, and exciting, and together forever.

Sirius was silver, and Remus was gold.

And together, they were an alloy of their own creation.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my lovely editor, and girlfriend, who fixed my spelling mistakes, and made this thing actually readable! (And for putting up w my dissociative nerd ass!)
> 
> My tumblr url is siriiuusblack if u wanna come chat w me!


End file.
